Don't Drown in a Sea of Despair: Homily for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost & Ninth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

1 Corinthians 3:9-17: Matthew 14:22-34

It is so easy for us today to become so focused on our worries and fears that we start to sink into a deep sea of despair.  We live in a time of almost constant distraction in which we are bombarded with images and messages that make us anxious, angry, and depressed.  We have been formed to ground our sense of wellbeing in serving cultural standards of success, including what we possess, how we look, and whether national events are unfolding in ways that we like.  Even in the richest and most powerful country in the world, people who bear the image and likeness of God will never find true satisfaction in the pursuit of such insubstantial goals.  Even those who seem to have achieved them know that they can disappear in the blink of an eye.  If the horizons of our hope extend no further than that, then we will never have any true peace in our souls.  

 Today’s gospel lesson provides a vivid example of what happens when we attempt to ground ourselves on the weak foundation of such illusions.  St. Peter began to sink like a stone in a raging sea when he turned his focus away from the Lord to fear about where he stood in relation to the wind and the waves.  By his own nature, there was simply no way that Peter could have avoided drowning, but he called out “Lord, save me!”  That is precisely what the Savior did by reaching out to Peter and rescuing him as He said, “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?”  The stress of the storm revealed the weakness of Peter’s faith, which is not surprising because he had gotten himself into this situation by foolishly putting Christ to the test, saying “Lord, if it is You, bid me come to You on the water.”   By his lack of humble trust, Peter literally got himself in well over his head. He had to learn the hard way that he had no other foundation, no other basis or hope for his life, than Jesus Christ.  If left to his own devices, he would have sunk like a stone into a watery grave.    

That is a destination completely different from the one to which our Lord calls us. The God-Man came to do nothing less than to transfigure us in holiness with His gracious divine energies as the uniquely beautiful persons He created us to become.  The Savior called His disciples to “be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”  (Matt. 5:48) He cited the Psalms: “You are gods, and all of you are children of the Most High.” (Psalm 82:6; Jn. 10:34) While we remain human beings by nature, Christ enables us to become like Him by our personal participation in His grace. That is why theosis is an eternal process, for God’s holiness is truly infinite.  We must not pretend to be isolated individuals looking for fulfillment in the conventional terms of this world, for Christ calls us to become persons united in love with Him and fellow members His Body, the Church. Such uniting love should transform our relationships with everyone we encounter and overcome all merely human divisions that do nothing but enslave people even further to their passions.  We become more fully our true selves not in self-centered isolation or by identifying with divisive factions over against other groups, but through growing in loving relationship with all who bear His image and likeness.  

The contrast between humanity seeking fulfillment on its own terms and our Savior’s restoration and fulfillment of the human person is starker than the difference between night and day.  It is truly the difference been death and life, between sinking to the bottom of a dark sea of sin and becoming resplendent with the radiant glory of God. Our Lord has conquered death, Hades, and the tomb in His glorious resurrection on the third day.  His divine glory has flooded even the darkest abyss, even the most tragic and painful pits of despair into which we can fall.  He has liberated us from slavery to the fear of death as the God-Man Who shares His eternal life with weak, fearful, anxious, and confused people like us.  When we call out to Him with faith from the depths of our hearts, as Peter did when he began to sink, He will illumine our darkened souls to receive His healing light.   

As St. Paul taught, “no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”  No one and nothing else can have that place in our lives, for to ground our existence elsewhere is to commit idolatry.  No matter how virtuous or appealing any project or ideal of this world may appear, it cannot keep us from sinking under the weight of our own sins.  The darkness roots so deeply within us all, both personally and collectively, and nothing but the brilliant glory of the Lord can overcome it.  Whether we know it or not, we inevitably sink like stones into the abyss whenever we make the foundation of our lives anything or anyone else than the One Who has conquered death itself.  All good things have their place in God’s creation and we should despise none of them, but we will not fully embrace the healing of the New Adam until we ground every dimension of our life on Him, our one true foundation. 

 As St. Paul teaches, we are by no means self-made, self-sustaining, or self-defining.   Our true identity is not determined by any merely human accomplishment, ability, or affiliation.   Instead, “we are God’s fellow workers…God’s field, God’s building…God’s temple… God’s Spirit dwells in you.”  Christ has made us members of His own Body, the Church.  The very foundation of our life, of our identity, and of our hope is in Him, not in our achievements, possessions, characteristics, or inclinations.   In order to avoid sinking like stones amidst the raging seas of our passions, we must mindfully turn away from whatever tempts us to reject our true vocation to become ever more beautiful living icons of God.  If we surrender to those temptations, we will become just like Peter in being so overwhelmed by the wind and waves of worry and fear that we will turn our focus away from Christ.

 Let us, then, remain constantly on guard against the temptation to entrust the meaning and purpose of our lives to anything or anyone other than the Lord.  There is no way to do that without cultivating the habits of daily prayer and mindful protection of our hearts from embracing thoughts and desires that fuel our passions.  The next time that you start sinking in the winds and waves, focus your attention on Him, as Peter did, saying “Lord, save me!”  He alone can raise us up from drowning in the sea of our passions. We also must not pretend that we are so strong spiritually than we can simply wait until there is a crisis; no, we must attend to the health of our souls every day.  We all remain too weak before our passions to focus fully on “the one thing needful” of hearing and obeying the Word of God.

 That is why we should all take a close look at our lives during this Dormition Fast and identify the habits of thought, word, and deed that keep us so distracted, confused, and weak that we easily sink like stones under their weight. We need to build new habits to replace them, such as limiting our exposure to images, messages, and media that lead us to hope in the passing things of this world.  We should replace them with edifying spiritual reading and listening to Orthodox chant and spiritual commentary.  Instead of worrying about this or that in the future or despairing about matters beyond our control in the world, we should devote our attention to grounding ourselves on Christ in the present and to serving Him in our neighbors who need our assistance and companionship. 

            The path to transfiguration in holiness is open to us all and exemplified most fully by the Theotokos, the woman who was the first receive Christ as His virgin mother and then to follow Him as a whole, embodied person into the heavenly kingdom upon her death.  As we fast and ask for her prayers, let us entrust ourselves so fully to her Son that we may join her in saying with every ounce of our being, “Behold the servant of the Lord.  Let it be to me according to your word.”  If we remain so grounded on our one true foundation, we will never drown in the sea of despair.   

 

 

 

Preparing for the Transfiguration and the Dormition: Homily for the Eighth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

 Matthew 14:14-22

            Early August is an especially rich time in the life of the Church.  On August 6, we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord on Mount Tabor, when the spiritual eyes of Peter, James, and John were opened to behold His divine glory to the extent possible for human beings.  For the first two weeks of this month, we fast and pray in preparation for the Feast of the Dormition (or “falling asleep”) of the Theotokos, when she became the first to follow her Son—body, soul, and spirit-- into the eternal life of the Kingdom of Heaven.  Both these great feasts manifest our sublime vocation as “partakers of the divine nature” by grace.  As Christ said to Nathanael, “You shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” (John 1:51)

In order to become transfigured in holiness, we must respond with active obedience to the Savior’s calling in our lives.  Of course, we would usually rather avoid accepting that responsibility like the disciples did when the Lord said concerning the thousands of hungry people who had followed Him into the wilderness, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Since it was obvious that they did not have the provisions to feed all those people, they had asked Christ to “send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.”  The disciples had only five loaves of bread and two fish, an absurdly small amount of food for a large crowd.  But they still obeyed when “He said, ‘Bring them here to Me.’”  The Savior then “blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.  And they all ate and were satisfied.  And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over.  And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.”

             The Lord revealed His identity as the Messiah that day by miraculously supplying food for hungry Jews in the desert like manna from heaven in the Old Testament.  The five loaves remind us of the five books of law in the Hebrew Bible, while the two fish recall the two tablets of God’s commandments received by Moses.  From these small amounts of food came such an abundance that twelve basketsful were leftover, which reminds us of the twelve tribes of Israel.  Five thousand men and their families were fed, which again recalls the five Old Testament books of law. The Lord miraculously satisfied the hunger of a multitude in a way that showed He fulfills the law, the prophets, and the promises to Abraham, which are now extended to all who respond to Him with humble faith. (Matt. 5:17)   

     Christ showed the disciples and us that we must actively offer ourselves and our resources to become instruments of His salvation in this world, regardless of our weaknesses and inadequacies.  Adam and Eve did the opposite by disobeying the Lord’s command and indulging their self-centered desires. They thus refused to fulfill their vocations as living icons of God and pursued a path leading only to despair and death.  The Savior offered Himself on the Cross in order to liberate us from such a depraved state through His glorious resurrection on the third day.  We unite ourselves to His offering when we lift up our hearts and offer bread and wine for the celebration of the Eucharist in the Divine Liturgy.  He has restored and fulfilled the original purpose of food and drink in order to bring us into the eternal communion of love shared by the Persons of the Holy Trinity. He nourishes us with His Body and Blood such that His life becomes ours as participants in the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.  

When “He looked up to Heaven, and blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds,” the Savior provided an image of the Eucharist.  Had the disciples not offered what little food they had collected to Christ, the crowd would have gone hungry.  If no one offers the bread and wine for the celebration of the Divine Liturgy, no one is nourished by the Eucharist.  By miraculously satisfying so many with so little, Christ revealed what it means for us to live eucharistically as we offer ourselves and our resources for the fulfillment of His gracious purposes for the world.  We must not offer only bread and wine or think that communion with Christ concerns only what we do on Sunday morning.  To be truly in communion with Christ means living every day as those who share in His life and are being transfigured in holiness.  No matter how tiny or inadequate our offerings may seem, He multiplies them to accomplish His gracious purposes for the world.   

During this period of the Dormition Fast, we marvel at how an obscure Palestinian Jewish girl freely offered herself to become the living temple of God when she said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.  Let it be to me according to your word.”  By offering herself fully in obedience, she became the Theotokos, the first to receive Christ into her life and, upon her death, the first to follow Him as a whole, embodied person into the heavenly kingdom.  No one forced her to do so, even as her Son did not force the disciples and does not force us.  Her obedience was not limited to a one-time event but continued throughout the course of her life, including when she stood by the foot of the Cross as her Son died.  Likewise, the disciples’ offering was not limited to the small amount of food they handed over on one day, for they had already obeyed His command to leave behind their occupations and families to follow Christ.  Had they refused to abandon their fishing nets, Peter, James, and John would not have been on Mt. Tabor where they beheld the divine glory of the Lord at the Transfiguration.  The only way to participate in Christ’s transfiguration of the human person in holiness is to persist in offering ourselves to Him in obedience each day as best we can, no matter how insignificant or difficult the particular offering may seem.  

            In order to gain the spiritual strength to do so, we must be obedient in the basic spiritual disciplines of the Christian life, including opening our hearts to God in focused prayer and reading the Scriptures each day, keeping a close watch on the thoughts that we accept in our hearts, and fasting in ways appropriate to our health and life circumstances. We must struggle to forgive those who have wronged us, ask forgiveness from those we have wronged, and give generously to help the needy and support the ministries of the Church.  We must repent of our sins as we receive Christ’s forgiveness in Confession, which we should all do regularly.  And we should receive our Lord’s Body and Blood as often as we can with proper spiritual preparation. 

That is how we may become transfigured in holiness so that we will have the strength to obey His command: “You give them something to eat.”  That is not a calling for a select few, but the Lord’s calling to us all.  In ways beyond our full understanding, the free obedience of an obscure Jewish girl was necessary for the coming of the Messiah.  In her Dormition and translation to heaven, the Lord has given us a radiant sign of our salvation.  We must each bow before the mystery of how her obedience, and ours, plays a unique role in making the world brilliant with the Lord’s holiness and drawing others into the life of the kingdom.  Let us refuse to be distracted from fulfilling our vocation to be transfigured in holiness as we offer the loaves and fishes of our lives for Him to bless and multiply as He sees fit. Let us “lift up our hearts” as we offer every dimension of our life and world for the healing and fulfillment that He alone can bring.    

 

 

Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Matthew with Commemoration of the Glorious Prophet Elijah in the Orthodox Church

James 5:10-20: Matthew 9: 1-8

Many people think of Christianity as a collection of religious rules that tell us what to do and what not to do.  The problem with a religion of law is that, while it points us in the direction of how we should behave, it does not give us the spiritual strength necessary to follow the rules. A faith that is simply a form of legalism leads inevitably to the frustration of never being able to fulfill its commandments.  A common way of coping with that frustration is to turn the focus away from our own failings by hypocritically condemning others for theirs.  It is no wonder that those who encounter such distorted forms of the faith typically have little interest in it.  It is not surprising that those who distort the faith in this way do not find healing for their spiritual infirmities.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus Christ demonstrated that He did not come simply to give us a new set of laws to obey according to our own moral strength.  He showed that He did not come merely to deliver us from the guilt of falling short of obeying divine commandments.  He forgave the sins of the paralyzed man, thus manifesting His divinity in a way that scandalized religious leaders.   But He also revealed that His salvation is not defined in legalistic terms, as though the whole point of the Christian life were to be declared innocent in a court of law for certain offenses.  If that were the case, there would have been no point in healing the paralyzed man, for he could have been acquitted of his sins while remaining unable to move. 

The man’s paralysis is a vivid icon of the state of humanity cast out of Paradise, corrupted by our refusal to pursue the fulfillment of our calling to become like God in holiness.  By disorienting ourselves from our true vocation and looking for fulfillment through gratifying our self-centered desires, we have diminished ourselves to the point of becoming as weak as the man unable to get up off the ground.  Christ responded to him with healing mercy, granting the poor man strength and restoration beyond what he could ever have given himself, no matter how hard he tried.  In response to the Savior’s gracious therapy, the man obeyed the command to stand up, pick up his bed, and walk home.  Apart from this personal encounter with the Lord, the man would have remained enslaved to debilitating weakness, but the Savior’s healing restored his ability to move forward in a life suitable for a person who bears the image and likeness of God.

Whenever we ask for the Lord’s mercy, we are asking for the same therapy that He extended to the paralyzed man.  We ask Him to heal our wounds, restore our strength, and help us become participants in the eternal joy for which He created us.  We ask Him to deliver us from the wretched, corrupt state of being so weak before our passions that we feel helpless before our familiar temptations, no matter how much we despise them. We ask Him to help us find healing from the ingrained habits of thought, word, and deed that serve only to make us and our neighbors miserable.  We even dare to ask Him to make us “partakers of the divine nature” who share by grace in His victory over death, which is the wages of sin.  

To rise up, take up our beds, and walk home requires obedience to Christ’s commands, but not a legalistic obedience in the sense of following a code for its own sake.  Instead, this obedience is like following the guidance of a physician or therapist who makes clear to us what we must do in order to regain health and function for our bodies.  Christ embodies true humanity and has made us participants in His restoration and fulfillment of our vocation to become like God in holiness.  His commandments are not arbitrary or superficial but go to the heart and require our healing as whole persons in communion with God.

The Saints are inspirational examples of what it looks like for people to become healed of the paralysis of sin amidst all the temptations and problems presented by this world of corruption.  Today we commemorate the glorious Prophet Elijah who gained the strength to speak so boldly in opposition to the idolatry of Ahab and Jezebel, to cause a drought for three years and six months by his prayers, and to call down fire from heaven in a confrontation with the pagan priests of Baal. Elijah miraculously multiplied the flour and oil of the widow of Zarephath and raised her son from the dead.  When he passed his mantle of prophecy to Elisha, he divided the Jordan river and then was taken up into heaven in a fiery chariot.  He appeared with Moses at the Transfiguration of the Lord on Mount Tabor. 

The Archangel Gabriel said to Zechariah that John the Baptist “will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” (Lk. 1:17) Christ affirmed the close association of Elijah and John the Forerunner, saying “To be sure, Elijah comes and will restore all things. But I tell you, Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but have done to him everything they wished. In the same way the Son of Man is going to suffer at their hands.” (Matt. 17: 11-12)

It may be tempting to think that a great saint like Elijah was a spiritual superhero who never struggled with fear, doubt, or any kind of weakness.  The truth is very different.  He literally ran for his life when told that Jezebel was out to kill him and then prayed that the Lord would take his life, despairing that “I am no better than my fathers!” (3 Kingdoms 19:4) In response to God’s question as to what he was doing hiding in a cave at Mount Horeb, Elijah complained that “I alone am left” as one faithful in Israel and that “they seek to take my life.”  Then there was a great wind, an earthquake, and a fire, but the Lord was not in any of them.  He spoke to Elijah, however, in a “gentle breeze” or a “still small voice,” asking again why he was there.  The Lord responded again to Elijah’s complaint that he was alone, saying “I have reserved seven thousand in Israel, all whose knees have not bowed to Baal…” (3 Kingdoms 19: 10-18) Even the great prophet Elijah had to be reminded not to fall into despair and self-pity and to keep his spiritual perception finely tuned to hear the Word of the Lord.

As St. James wrote, “Elijah was a man of like nature with ourselves and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again and the heavens gave rain, and the earth brought forth its fruit.”  That is precisely why he and all the Saints are such great examples for us of what it means to gain the spiritual strength to rise, take up our beds, and walk.  They experienced the weaknesses, challenges, and temptations that are our common lot in this world of corruption.  Nonetheless, the Old Testament saints took up the struggle to live in faith and hope for the fulfillment of God’s gracious promises that is ours in Jesus Christ.  As we read in Hebrews 11:39-40, “And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise, God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us.”

As those who have become heirs to the fullness of the promise to Abraham by faith in Christ, we have no more business lying flat on our backs in spiritual paralysis than did Elijah hiding out in a cave and bemoaning how he alone had been faithful.  Like Elijah, we must cultivate the spiritual sensitivity to hear the “gentle breeze” or “still small voice” of the Lord and not to be distracted by the winds, the earthquakes, and the fires of our life and world.  We do not worship pagan deities like Baal, but it is so easy to corrupt our pursuit of the Christian life in ways that simply serve our passions and keep us paralyzed before them.  Our true calling is very different and requires the spiritual clarity gained by mindful prayer, fasting, and generosity to our neighbors.  As St. James wrote, we must confess our sins and “pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects.”  He also taught that “Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” (Jas. 1:27) None of this is new, trendy, or easy, but it is how we must persistently struggle to live if we are to gain the spiritual strength to obey the command of the Lord to each and every one of us:  Rise, take up your bed, and go home. That is what Elijah the Prophet did and it is what we must all do for the salvation of our souls.

 

Homily for the Fourth Sunday After Pentecost & Fourth Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

Romans 6:18-23; Matthew 8: 5-13

Too many Christians are apparently blind to how radically Christ challenged the conventional social assumptions of first-century Palestine and of life as we know it today.   Contrary to all expectations for the Jewish Messiah, He asked for a drink of water from a Samaritan woman with a scandalous personal history, engaged in His longest recorded conversation with her, and then spent two days in a Samaritan village.  In doing so, He identified Himself with people viewed as heretical enemies and treated a woman who was a complete outcast as a beloved child of God.  He invited Himself to the home of Zacchaeus, a corrupt tax-collector for the Roman army of occupation.  And as we read today, He not only healed the servant of a Roman centurion, but said of this man, “Truly, I say to you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.”  The centurion was an officer of the pagan Roman Empire that controlled the Holy Land. The Jews expected the Messiah to destroy people like him, not to praise their faith.   

The Lord’s statement that the faith of this Roman soldier was superior to that of any of the Jews surely seemed foolish, treasonous, and blasphemous according to conventional standards.  With those words, He made clear that nationality and ethnicity are not spiritually determining factors, for “many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the Kingdom of Heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness…”  Though it was commonly overlooked at the time, God’s promises to Abraham were for the blessing of “all the nations,” not merely one group of people.  These promises have been fulfilled in Jesus Christ such that all with faith in Him are now heirs to their fulfillment as His beloved sons and daughters.  (Gen. 22:18; Gal. 3:8-9) 

Our Lord’s ministry had nothing at all to do with setting up an earthly kingdom in Palestine or anywhere else for any group of people.  Pursuing such worldly power was a temptation that He rejected.  Before the Savior began His public ministry, “the devil took Him up on an exceedingly high mountain, and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to Him, ‘All these things I will give You if You will fall down and worship me.’  Then Jesus said to him, ‘Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only you shall serve.’” (Matt. 4:8-10) The crowds welcomed Christ to Jerusalem as a conquering hero on Palm Sunday because they thought He was their military liberator from Roman rule.  When it became clear that He was an entirely different kind of Messiah with no interest in launching an armed rebellion, they yelled, “Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!” a few days later (Lk 23:21).   The Savior then told Pontius Pilate that His kingdom was not of this world, which is why His followers would not take up arms to defend Him. (Jn. 18:36)

The kingdom which Christ proclaimed may well appear just as foolish today according to conventional standards, for it has no geographical boundaries and is not a nation-state; it does not require any particular ethnicity, culture, or language for its citizens.  It is not focused on the interests of any faction or group.  Even as the promises to the descendants of Abraham have been extended to all with faith in Christ, the ancient hope for an earthly realm in a particular part of the world has been fulfilled in the Body of Christ in which all may participate even now as a foretaste of the blessedness of the kingdom of heaven, regardless of where they live or their cultural or ethnic heritage.  As St. Peter wrote to the early Christians, “You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy.” (1 Pet. 2: 9-10) As Orthodox Christians, we know that we share in the life of our Lord by His grace, not by the power of any earthly realm or leader in any part of the world, including our own.

We pray for God’s blessings upon our nation and all the nations and peoples of the world.  We give thanks for all the blessings that are ours, especially our rights and freedoms, and we must be good stewards of them, not as ends in themselves, but as opportunities to offer all the good things of this life for purification and fulfillment in Christ.  Remember that the chief priests told Pilate “We have no king but Caesar!” as they called for the Messiah’s crucifixion (Jn. 19:15).  The pagan Romans later killed Christians because they would not worship the gods believed to preserve their empire, including Caesar.   Our Lord and His martyrs looked like fools, or worse, to those obsessed with serving the rulers of this world. We are certainly not immune today from the temptation to reject our Lord and His Cross by giving our primary allegiance to those who seem to serve our desires for power, domination, and vengeance.  This temptation, which is rooted in the fear of death, is all the more dangerous when we convince ourselves that we are actually serving Christ as we pursue the nationalistic and political paths that He so clearly rejected.       

Obviously, our Lord did not view the Roman centurion according to conventional earthly terms, even though He was well aware of the man’s role in serving the empire under the authority of which He would be crucified.  By all outward appearances, they would have been sworn enemies, but Christ did not see him that way or require him to quit the Roman army or become a Jew.  He simply marveled at the centurion’s faith, granted his request, and noted that “many will come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the Kingdom of Heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.”  

Our hope is to be among those “from east and west” who are gathered into the kingdom of heaven by our Lord’s gracious mercy, which we receive through faith in Him, regardless of our national, ethnic, or political identity.   Even as not all the descendants of Abraham fulfilled their calling to receive the Messiah in faith, we cannot blithely assume that being Orthodox Christians somehow guarantees us the blessedness of the kingdom or makes us justified in condemning anyone.  The greatest obstacle to the healing of our souls is pride, which often manifests itself in the belief that we are somehow better and more deserving of God’s favor than others.  Such pride is the deadly enemy of true faith, but the centurion somehow managed to avoid that trap, despite the high standing given to him by his rank in the armed forces of the mighty Roman Empire.  He humbled himself, saying, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.”  Even as Christ did not see him as an enemy, he did not see Christ as either a threat to the empire or someone inferior by worldly standards.  Quite the contrary, the centurion had somehow acquired the spiritual clarity to know where he stood before the Lord Who would heal his servant in such a miraculous fashion. Even as the centurion, tax-collectors, prostitutes, Samaritans, demon-possessed Gentiles, and other outcasts received Christ in humble faith, we must never presume to declare that anyone is beyond His love or cannot find healing in Him.   We must gain the spiritual health necessary to treat every person we encounter as a living icon of Christ, regardless of national identity, political affiliation, or any other human characteristic.  Any Christianity that does not call people to do so is unworthy of its name.

Like the Roman centurion, let us entrust ourselves to Christ with such humility that our passions do not keep us from knowing that we stand before Him in need of constant mercy, no less than everyone else.  Instead of fueling the pride that so easily blinds us spiritually and leads us to idolatry, let us unite ourselves so fully to Christ that His character becomes evident in us.  Then we will manifest His mercy and compassion in ways unconstrained by devotion to any of the false gods of this world as we learn to love even strangers and enemies as God loves us.  That is not and never has been the easy, popular, and conventional way of living, but it is clearly the way of the Savior Who conquered death itself through His Cross and glorious resurrection on the third day.  It is only by uniting ourselves to Him in faith and faithfulness that we may hope, along with that blessed centurion, to be among those who “come from east and west and sit at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the Kingdom of Heaven.”  

 

Sunday of All Saints of Antioch & Second Sunday of Matthew in the Orthodox Church

 

 Acts 11:19-30; Matthew 4:18-23

           We celebrate today for the first time in our Archdiocese the Sunday of All Saints of Antioch together with our Patriarchate. It is through their faithful witness that we have been welcomed into the fullness of the Body of Christ in which divisions according to nationality, ethnicity, and culture have no legitimate place or spiritual significance.  The miracle of speaking in diverse languages at Pentecost shows that the transforming power of the Holy Spirit enables all people to fulfill their basic human vocation to become like God in holiness.  The first Gentile church was in Antioch, where “the disciples were first called Christians.”   As His Eminence, Metropolitan SABA recently wrote, the Antiochian Church has always been a multicultural and multilingual church.  Its “freedom from ethnocentrism made it the first Orthodox church in North America to open its doors…to converts to Orthodoxy.”[1]  We are obviously deeply indebted to those through whom we have heard the Lord’s call, “Follow Me.” The ministry of Antioch proclaims this calling not to a select few but as the vocation of all who bear the divine image as unique, irreplaceable icons of God.

 

To gain the spiritual strength to respond to this calling, we must grow in humility and find healing for our souls.  From ancient times, Christians have observed a fast after celebrating the great feast of Pentecost.  After the festive seasons of Pascha, Ascension, and Pentecost, we now focus on the struggle to become fully receptive to the healing power of the Holy Spirit.   The Apostles Fast concludes with the celebration of the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, who are shining examples of what it means to become radiant with the divine glory.  The stories of their personal transformations should inspire us, for both had sinned greatly, with Peter denying the Lord three times and Paul having fiercely persecuted Christians.  Nonetheless, they became foundational pillars of the Church by the power of the Holy Spirit.  They truly were healed.

 

            We might refuse to see how they are examples for us due to a misplaced sense of humility.  It may seem presumptuous to put ourselves anywhere near the place of those who first heard the Savior’s call: “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”   The point is not that we are somehow to repeat the unique roles of any of the apostles, but that we must learn from their examples how to become fully receptive to the healing mercy of the Lord.  The difficult journeys of all the apostles had nothing to do with glorifying themselves.   Instead, they became living icons of Christ by their humility, for their sins were made clear for all to see.  Sts. Peter and Paul both made the ultimate witness as martyrs, becoming last in this world to the point of shedding their blood for Christ. Contrary to the temptations common to religious people and leaders to this very day, the apostles pursued paths that had nothing to do with exalting themselves above others. As St. Paul wrote, “God has displayed us, the apostles, last, as men condemned to death; for we have been made a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men… To the present hour we both hunger and thirst, and we are poorly clothed, and beaten, and homeless. And we labor, working with our own hands. Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; being defamed, we entreat. We have been made as the filth of the world, the offscouring of all things until now.” (1 Cor: 4: 9-13)

 

As living members of Christ’s Body, the Church, we have received the fullness of truth by the power of the Holy Spirit, poured out richly at Pentecost.  We are filled with the same Spirit personally in Chrismation and nourished by the Savior’s Body and Blood in the Eucharist. He has called and empowered us to live each day of our lives as those who participate by grace in the life of the Holy Trinity.  To confess these truths is to know immediately how unworthy we are of such blessings and how far short we fall of living accordingly.  When we recall the Lord’s teaching that “to whom much is given, much will be required,” we should fall on our faces in repentance because of the great responsibility that is ours. (Lk 12:48) The Savior said, “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.” (Matt. 7:21) He also said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (Jn. 14:15) As the Lord told His disciples, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 5: 20) Struggling to obey the Lord each day in humility is the only way to grow in holiness and follow the apostles to the heavenly kingdom.  To identify ourselves as Orthodox Christians without pursuing this demanding path is sheer hypocrisy by which we condemn ourselves.  We will become the opposite of “fishers of men” if we entangle ourselves in the nets of our passions, such as spiritual pride and the false gods of worldly political and ethnic divisions. Instead of attracting others to Christ like a beacon in the darkness, we will repel them by our refusal to follow in the way of the apostles and saints. 

 

The world so obviously lacks peace today, especially in situations where earthly powers blasphemously view themselves as the highest good and become blind to the humanity of those who threaten their desires and illusions.  As His Eminence has written, the refusal of the Antiochian Church to identify itself with a nation arises from the experience of “living under non-Christian rule since the seventh century [which] exposed the Church to various persecutions. Yet, wherever possible, it engaged with its surroundings, rulers, and citizens of different sects, remaining a witness to its faith and spirituality...” To be faithful stewards of the spiritual inheritance that we have received from our Antiochian forebears, we must follow in their way of freedom “from ethnic and nationalistic entanglements” and maintain “a theology untainted by a fusion of religion and nationalism.”[2]  

 

St. Seraphim of Sarov taught, “Acquire the Spirit of peace and a thousand souls around you will be saved.”  The Spirit of peace is, of course, the Holy Spirit, through whom we have become children and heirs of God through Christ, regardless of our ethnic, cultural, or national identity. (Gal. 4:6-7) St. Seraphim also taught that “the true aim of our Christian life consists of the acquisition of the Holy Spirit of God.”  Our vocation is not to serve the false gods of our passions or of the divisions of the world. It is, instead, to become like God in holiness through the healing, transformative presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

 

The light yoke of the Apostles Fast gives us an opportunity to do precisely that, as we humble ourselves before the Savior in prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  That is how we acquire the spiritual strength necessary to overcome the weakness of slavery to our self-centered desires as we answer the calling to become the uniquely beautiful living icons that our Lord created us to be.  Remember that when the disciples first heard Christ say, “Follow Me,” they were doing their daily work as fishermen.  His calling is not esoteric or removed from the mundane realities of life.  We have no lack of opportunities to answer His call today in our families, workplaces, friendships, and neighborhoods, as well as in our parish.  No one else is married to your spouse, is the father or mother of your children, or is the particular friend, worker, or parishioner that you are.  No one else has the vocation to serve Christ in those around you in the unique way that you do. The present circumstances of our lives present limitless opportunities to become fully receptive to the healing presence and peace of Holy Spirit.  None of us lacks anything at all that is necessary to grow in holiness, obey Christ’s calling, and draw others into the life of the Kingdom.  The disciplines of the Apostles Fast will help us gain the spiritual clarity to hear and respond faithfully to that calling, as have all the saints across the centuries.  Let us use these weeks to abandon the nets that would hold us back from doing so.

 

 

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[1] “Antiochian Distinctions,” https://www.antiochian.org/regulararticle/2465.

[2] https://www.antiochian.org/regulararticle/2465

Homily for the Sunday of All Saints in the Orthodox Church

 

Hebrews 11:33-12:2; Matthew 10:32-33, 37-38; 19:27-30

           The word “saint” simply means “holy.”  On this first Sunday after Pentecost, we commemorate all those who are so filled with the Holy Spirit that they shine brightly with holiness.  They bear witness to the meaning of Pentecost, for it is by the power of the Holy Spirit that people fulfill their calling to become like God in holiness as they enter into the eternal communion of love shared by the Persons of the Holy Trinity. When our risen and ascended Lord sent the Holy Spirit upon His followers, He fulfilled the prophecy spoken by Jeremiah: “I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest.” (Jer. 31:33-34) The saints show us that everyone may embrace personally the transformation and healing of the Holy Spirit, for the “living water” of the Spirit flows in and through them as a sign of the salvation of the world. (Jn. 7:38) That is how they have become, as St. Paul wrote, “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together.” (Rom. 8:16)

We do not know the names of all the saints, but God certainly knows all who have entered into the blessedness of the heavenly kingdom.  As members together with them of the same Body of Christ, we ask for their prayers as we strive to follow their example of faithful witness to the Lord.  The root meaning of the word “martyr” is “witness,” and from the stoning of St. Stephen the Protomartyr to the present day those who have refused to deny Christ even to the point of death have provided powerful testimony to the Savior Who has liberated them from the fear of the grave.  Their shining example inspires us to take up our crosses in following our Lord as we seek first the Kingdom of God in the particular circumstances of our lives.  Christ said, “Everyone who acknowledges Me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father Who is in heaven; but whoever denies Me before men, I also will deny before My Father Who is in heaven.”  As the varied lives of the saints across the ages demonstrate, there are many ways of showing our faithfulness to Him, even as there are many ways of denying Him. 

 Sainthood and martyrdom are not reserved only for those who refuse to renounce Christ under threat of physical death.  They are the common calling of us all to die to our passions as we became “partakers of the divine nature” by our personal receptivity to the healing divine energies of our Lord.  Like all the saints, we must acquire the strength to say truthfully with Saint Paul, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.” (Gal. 2:20) Regardless of whether we are called literally to shed our blood for Christ, we must all pursue the living martyrdom of refusing to allow love for anything or anyone to become a false god that we place before loyalty to our Lord.  When we endure the inevitable tension associated with purifying the desires of our hearts for their true fulfillment in God, we will know what it means to take up our crosses.  We will suffer, not because pain has any intrinsic significance, but because of the struggle required to turn away from deeply ingrained habits of self-indulgence that have marred the beauty of our souls.  Instead of romanticizing about some ideal spiritual path that we imagine would be either easier or more exalted, we should simply accept in humility that we must face the challenges that are before us today for our salvation.  Fantasizing about anything else is simply a distraction from making the particular offering of our lives that is necessary for our healing.  The path to salvation is never an escape from reality, for it requires us to do the hard work of learning to see ourselves more truthfully so that we may find healing for the given diseases of soul that we would prefer to ignore. We must refuse to be distracted by anything from pursuing healing for the spiritual maladies that we actually have.

 Holiness is not a reward for people who have never sinned, even as health is not a reward for people who have never been sick.  The common image of the ideal religious person as a self-righteous legalist who condemns others has nothing at all to do with a spiritually healthy understanding of sainthood.  As St. John wrote in his epistle, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 Jn. 1:8-9) True saints are people like King David (who had committed murder and adultery), Peter (the head disciple who had denied His Lord three times), and Mary of Egypt (who had lived a horribly depraved life as a sex addict).  They all found healing through repentance as they pursued the difficult struggle to reorient the desires of their hearts toward God and to live accordingly.  Likewise, Paul, formerly a harsh persecutor of Christians who referred to himself as the chief of sinners, wrote that the Lord showed him mercy “as a pattern to those who are going to believe on Him for everlasting life.”  (1 Tim. 1:16)  

That such broken people became glorious saints is not an exception to the rule, but the norm.  If we want to find healing for our souls, we will not do so by convincing ourselves that we have somehow already fulfilled the Lord’s command to “be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matt. 5:48) Neither, however, we will we share in the holiness of God by accepting the lie that anything we have said, thought, or done makes it impossible for us to be transformed by the Lord’s healing mercy.  Photini, the Samaritan woman at the well, and Zacchaeus, the corrupt tax-collector, were lost causes according to the conventional religious and moral standards of first-century Palestine, but they received Christ in ways that transformed them into glorious saints.   

 They remind us that everyone who shares in the blessed life of the Savior does so through their participation in His grace, not as a reward for good behavior.  Our reading from Hebrews teaches that the righteous of the Old Testament, “though well attested by their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had foreseen something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect.”  It is impossible to become like God in holiness apart from sharing in Jesus Christ’s healing and fulfillment of the human person.  He enables both those who may appear to have never done anything wrong and those who may appear never to have done anything right to become His saints, if they will embrace the struggle to entrust themselves so fully to Him that they become living icons of His salvation.   That is the only way that anyone becomes a “partaker of the divine nature” by grace.

 Looking to the example of all those who have entered into the holiness of God, “since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfection of our faith.”  Let us take up the crosses that are obviously before us and acknowledge Him each day of our lives as we bear the inevitable tension of seeking first His Kingdom and loving Him with every ounce of our being and our neighbors as ourselves.  If we do so, we will become living martyrs who bear witness to the active presence of the Holy Spirit, sent by the risen and ascended Lord, for the salvation of the world, as do all the saints. Our calling is not to religious legalism in any form, but to receive the healing of our souls so that we may bear witness to the Lord’s healing and fulfillment of the human person in the divine image and likeness.

 

Homily for the Great Feast of Pentecost in the Orthodox Church

 

Acts 2:1-11; John 7:37-52; 8:12 

Today we celebrate the Great Feast of Pentecost at which the Holy Spirit comes upon on the Apostles as they are gathered together in obedience to the command of the risen Lord.  The same divine breath which first gave us life from the dust of the earth now comes as a mighty, rushing wind.  The divine glory beheld by Moses in the burning bush now rests upon each one personally as flames of fire.   The divided speech of the tower of Babel is now overcome by the miracle of speaking in different languages as a sign that all peoples are invited to share in the life of the Lord.  This great feast manifests the fulfillment of God’s gracious promises for the entire world and every human person in the Body of Christ, the Church born at Pentecost.  Today we celebrate the restoration of our true unity in God through the presence of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter sent by the risen and ascended Savior Who is seated at the right hand of the Father in heavenly glory. 

The sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit empowers the Church as a living icon of the common life of humanity in which our divisions and resentments are healed.  He enables us to become persons in communion united organically as members of the one Body of Christ instead of isolated individuals obsessively choosing sides over against one another due to the fear of death.  The Persons of the Holy Trinity share a common life of love, unity, and holiness; by the power of the Holy Spirit manifested at Pentecost, we participate by grace in Their eternal communion.  Our journey to theosis calls us to nothing less than being united in and with God such that we become radiant with the divine energies in every dimension of our being, like an iron left in the fire of holy glory.

As those who bear the divine image and likeness, we become both more truly human and more like God as we find healing from the passions that divide and separate us, and instead embrace our life together. That is why St. Paul wrote, “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Gal. 5:22-23) That is why St. Silouan the Athonite taught, “One can only love one’s enemies through the grace of the Holy Spirit.” And “He who does not love his enemies, does not have God’s grace.”[1]

The Lord said, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.’”  He uses the image of living water to describe what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit, even as He did with St. Photini, the Samaritan woman at the well.  Our risen and ascended Lord did not send mere theological ideas, moral instructions, or spiritual practices to His followers.  After His Ascension, the Savior sent the Holy Spirit to quench the deep thirst, the primal longing, of all the broken, confused, and alienated people of the world for sharing personally in the eternal life of God, for nothing else can truly satisfy us as those who bear the divine image and likeness.  So much of our pain and misery stems from obsessively seeking fulfillment in created things that can never provide it.  Doing so only enslaves us further to our passions and separates us from one another.

Wind, fire, and water are powerful realities that escape our control. At Pentecost they convey the profound mystery of what it means to be drawn into the divine life in ways that transcend even the best rational definitions:  As living members of the Body of Christ, we may truly know and experience God from the depths of our hearts and in our common life as did the Apostles.

 In order to celebrate this great feast with integrity, we must mindfully open ourselves as fully as possible to the sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit.   In order to do that, we must live faithfully each day through the spiritual strength that we gain from participating in the sacramental and ascetical life of the Church.  The Holy Spirit came upon Christ’s followers as they were gathered together in obedience to the Lord’s command, and we must never fool ourselves into thinking that the spiritual life is an individualistic endeavor that caters to our preferences, prejudices, or feelings.  Pentecost calls us to get over the pride that divided the tongues of humanity in the first place and to gain the humility to find our true personhood as members together of the Body of Christ, where the distinctive beauty of our souls will shine evermore brightly as we partake of the same living water as did the Apostles.  

Indeed, Pentecost calls us to become so receptive to the presence and power of the Holy Spirit that we overflow with His living water, becoming channels of blessing that enable our neighbors and world to flourish with the peace, joy, and holiness of God’s Kingdom.  As the Savior said, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.’” We must turn away from all that separates us from being filled to overflowing with the life of our Lord in His Body, the Church, if we are to know such blessedness.   We must kneel in prayer and live in humility as we forgive our enemies, share our resources with the poor, and take up the daily struggle to purify our hearts of all that would keep us enslaved to self-centered desire.  We must refuse to define ourselves or our neighbors according to the categories of the fallen world (such as nationality, race, or social standing), for the Holy Spirit has healed such divisions.  To do so is to miss the point of this great feast, for Pentecost is the reverse of the divisions of the Tower of Babel in which language and culture become spiritually irrelevant as we share by grace in the life of God.

At Pentecost, let us turn aside from all that would keep us from true unity in Christ as “a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light…” (1 Pet. 2:9) That is the only way to be illumined by the One Who said, “I am the light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Our calling is nothing less than to overflow with the gracious divine energies poured out abundantly for the salvation of the world on this great Feast of Pentecost and to live accordingly each day of our lives.

  

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[1] See Jean-Claude Larchet, “On the Love of Enemies According to Saint Silouan,” https://www.johnsanidopoulos.com/2020/10/on-love-of-enemies-according-to-saint.html